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	Jeremiah stared blankly at the brown drink in front of him. The recognizable throat burning smell of cheap whiskey rose from the fake crystal glass as well as every exhale that fogged it. His body slumped and refused to move when the largest of the rag-tag crew he found himself seated with excused himself from the stools accompanying the bar in favor of a jukebox, God help them all. 

	In total Jeremiah portrayed a broken man whose bounty had just slipped through his fingers just as he formed a first around it, and truth be told he was upset, but not as upset as he wanted to be. He couldn’t help but find a fuzzy itch pop up now and again across his psyche or a tickle under his skin. While the massive high of the drugs swimming through his veins had passed a few hours ago, they still managed to warm his tender body with heated pulses. He held a tight grasp on his lucidity and he clearly recognized the agony of the situation but even then he couldn’t help betray a whimsical smirk, one easily mistaken for optimism rather than remnants of controlled substances. 

	Taking another sip from his cup the liquor skidded down his throat with a certain acidity that kept his attention away from the smudged lip stain on the other side of the glass, one he recognized as neither his own or clean. The alcohol quickly blazed around his empty stomach and he felt the cheap booze mingle with his high, causing him to suddenly squirm in his seat; a mild reaction. Had this whiskey been chasing a new capsule of the drug he knew as ‘Joy’ down his throat, he knew all too well the results would be violently unpleasant for those around him, but that would hardly be the whiskey’s fault.

	He let his light green eyes scan his fellow bounty hunters. He had been working with them for longer than he wanted to count, and he knew every one of them as much as a fallen leaf knew a pond: not much. It was better that way, he smiled warmly at his glass, a sense of euphoria washing over his head, there was a certain bliss to ignorance, and a peace to quiet.

[i]Thud![/i]

	Unfortunately bliss and peace never lasted. Jeremiah looked down and frowned at his plastic glass as it rolled away on the floor, a tiny puddle of brown following it. He had little idea of how it ended up there, but he was sure glad the owners were cheap enough to settle for the shatter-proof plastic glasses; heroes every one of them. 


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